This Isn't His First Rodeo

My little brother, Anthony, is in town from Dallas. His visits are always fun. Today, Robbie is out of state attending a funeral, so I had to take the children to mass without him. We participate in a ministry at church in which our family sometimes offers the gifts before the Eucharist is prepared. Anything that involves carrying bread, wine, water, and a basket of money with Henry and a baby involved can get tricky. I told Anthony that I could really use his help, and he agreed. During mass Henry was his normal 2-year-old self, which in hour-long Catholic mass terms translates to "difficult". Anthony and I passed the baby back and forth between us, and we took turns redirecting Henry. Luckily, Vivian goes to Uncle Anthony as easily as she goes to her dad, so she was happy with either of us holding her. She patted Anthny's beard and put her blanket on his head. It was very sweet. When it was our time to carry the gifts to the priest, the usher handed Henry a crystal container with an open top that was full of water. I think I took in a deep breath when I saw his thick paws grasp that fragile object. The guy had second thoughts and tried to take the crystal back to give it to Evelyn. It became clear that Henry would erupt in a great display of sadness if forced to relinquish possesion of such a cool object, so we just went with it. I said, "We'll all just have to pray," and I wasn't even kidding. My heart pounded as I followed my small son toward the altar. He held the bottle carefully, but he sometimes lifted it upward, and I feared it would spill. What then? I figured I'd find out if I had to find out. God smiled upon us, and we made it to Father Greg. Henry even handed the water over to him without incident. We bowed and returned to our seats. All's well that ends well, but I thought to myself, "This isn't the usher's first rodeo. Why did he hand something breakable to a little guy like Henry?" I was thankful for Anthony's help. After mass we attended the Catholic Schools Week Open House, and we toured various classrooms. I was set to volunteer an hour to assist the parents who visited that classroom. With Robbie out of town I needed Anthony to help me with the children. I asked him to load them into the van, drive them home, feed them lunch, and put them down for naptime. He said, "Even her?" as he pointed to the baby. Even Vivian. Ant did it. He had two of them in their beds when I got home, and he was finishing feeding the baby. When I told the preschool teachers about it they said it was good practice for him.

I love being a mommy. While I've been blogging, Miss Evelyn has been creating another art project for me. It has brown curly hair, big blue eyes, and a cute body. She says it is my Christmas present. I love it. I love her too.

Today we ate homemade whole wheat blueberry muffins shaped like dinosaurs. The kids and Anthony thought they were yummy, and as I've said before, I felt like a good mommy for making healthy muffins. So very silly, but true.

Last night Anthony asked Henry if he's a big boy. Henry said, "Not yet." Henry has been so cute. He wants to kiss Vivian after she nurses, and he peeks his little face up to the crib slats. She giggles and kisses him back, then he offers baby T. Rex, Ev's pink baby bear, and a stuffed animal dog. Baby kisses those too with her mouth wide open. Their affection for one another is so endearing. I love watching them lovingly respond to one another. It sure beats the fighting that goes on half the time between my big girls. That said, they were gold star girls during mass. I was thankful.

I'm thankful for time with Anthony too. The kids have eaten his PEZ and Girl Scout cookies. They have played outside in the snow with him. He has laughed with them a lot. He took Vivian for me at bedtime the other night, and I heard him laughing in her room. He came out with a half naked girl and said, "I can't get her shirt off. She won't put her arms up." Olivia helped him. When he finally emerged with her in PJs he reported that on his first try he put them on backwards. On his second try he put her right arm in the left sleeve, and she was all twisted. He said she just went with it and looked at him like, "You really have no idea what you're doing, do you?" He gave her a dry diaper, and snapped her just right. His difficulties made me smile.

I hear her calling for me in her happy after naptime voice. She'll smile and lunge for me when I quietly open the door to snatch her up without waking Henry. I have a whole lotta love.

Ask for Help and Move On

I have learned a thing or two along the way during this journey through motherhood. I shared this point with my friend, Kara, who just had baby girl number two (like me). When I need help, I ask for help. I got over the notion that I must do everything alone or that anyone expects me to do it all. Women used to raise children within walking distance of their mothers and sisters. That is now usually a thing of the past. So, if I need Robbie to pitch in and help me with what I deem "my chores", then I ask for help. If I need to make childcare arrangements so that I may get a two hour break at a meeting with the goal of becoming a BETTER wife and mother, then I do it. I ask for help, and I take care of myself. When I feel better, then I can function better in all areas of my life. I like to think my family members benefit from the times when I stop and catch my breath. This blog is a break, and I enjoy it very much. The dishes and laundry and crumbs upstairs will never end, but my sanity will end if I don't stop and relax here and there.

A woman with four boys recently commented on how she hates to ask her husband to help her once he's home from work after a long day. The speaker said, "Why? Think about it. He may have worked hard, but he got to go out to lunch and eat it without sharing it or cutting it into small pieces or picking it up off the floor. He got to go to the bathroom by himself. He got to drive in his car alone and listen to whatever he wanted on the radio. He got to talk to other adults." I have had some hard early mornings trying to get the children ready for school and the day, and I've said, "Do you think I can swing it as an ophthalmologist today? You stay here, and I'll go do the trabeculectomy." In all honesty, I just had to navigate away from this page to check the spelling of that surgery, and I saw an image offering to allow me to view some video. Disgusting. I'd rather wipe dirty bottoms than put needles into people's eyes. I'm all for Robbie doing the ophthalmology. I have it good. I get the kisses and the snuggle time with books, and I love it.

Today was an effort. It is only 1:40 pm. This morning was an effort. I had Mothers of Preschoolers, but I had to take Olivia, Evelyn, and Grace to school first. We were all loaded into the van at 7:34 am. That takes effort. BIG effort. I returned home with H Man and Vivian. She had to be fed, changed, and dressed. Fruit salad had to be finished for my contribution to the MOPS brunch. A few loose ends were tied, then we were out the door to Mrs. Smith's house. Henry asked me on the way, "Mama, is this Mrs. Smith nice or mean?" I told him she's very nice, and he said, "Good. She's no booger nose." Such potty talk does not come from my example. I think he's hardwired with such nonsense. He was happy to go to her house for she has an indoor gym. I left with just baby. I drove to the church where we meet, and I put her in the nursery. She is amazing. When I returned for her after my super meeting, it was reported that the childcare workers had experienced their most challenging Monday in ages. The babies were not happy. However, I put Vivian into a crib in the sleeping area upon our arrival, and she woke up just minutes before I returned. I guess the house noise that I think bothers her has conditioned her to sleep through high volume. This will aid her peaceful slumber in college, I assume. She happily went to me, and we were off to pick up Henry. He had duct tape rings, a candy cane for pottying success, stories of an ugly football mask, and a bag of orange play dough. He kept telling Mary Beth that her big doggy was the mommy and the small one was the puppy. I said, "Well, he calls me Mama T-Rex, and he calls himself Baby T-Rex." She laughed. From there we went to Katie's house to pick up Evelyn. She helps me on MOPS days, for Ev's school ends at 11 am, and MOPS runs longer. Her twins are in class with Evelyn, and they have a half hour or so at home before I arrive. She's a dear to help me. Point being, we attended a meeting for moms at our church last Friday which dealt with the importance of finding ways to meet our own personal needs. Moms complained about how they must impose their children on others in order to have time for themselves. Katie expressed satisfaction in helping me, and she described how things seem to get easier as she moves past the super young child years with her children. She said that when others helped her in the past it was life saving, and that when looking back they seemed to have been glad to have done it. The message here is to play it forward. We all help others as we can, and the world becomes a better place.

Something else of value came from my morning. I did not realize that Henry's diaper had been removed at Mrs. Smith's house, and I drove around town with him in basketball undies. I took him to our bathroom after lunch, and I was shocked that he had done so well. It is so funny, but keeping undies and pants (and socks and shoes and carseats and floors) free of bodily functions is huge for a mom with a 2-year-old. Henry rocks. He's been keeping his diaper so dry that I even put him down for his nap in his crib with his undies. I figure if he has to pee badly enough, then he will crawl out and come tell me. I'l hope for the best.

Now, dear reader, my never ending work awaits my return.

Blossom of Snow May You Bloom and Grow

Many years have passed since the cold and snowy Milwaukee I spent in 2003 with my firstborn. I used to sit quietly in a rocking chair in her room and nurse her. Robbie didn't make any racket, and we could even silence the t.v and phone ringer that were in the other room. My favorite memories of nursing her were the times we snuggled into our deep, overstuffed chair and watched the snow fall. Such fleeting moments.

I just put Vivian to bed, and it dawned on me that I am just days with her from the point at which newly one-year-old Henry refused to nurse and gave me baby sign language for "finished". That was it. He never nursed again. Baby girl is so distracted by her rambunctious siblings that she rarely nurses very well unless we are all alone in her dark room. We had such a luxury this evening. I asked Robbie to keep Henry out at all costs. He and Evelyn only burst into the room once to announce that Ev's blanket was missing, and Henry was the culprit. One interruption must be some kind of a record. My favorite lullaby CD played, Lullabies of Broadway by Mimi Bessett. It is amazing. Edelweiss played, and I simply adore that song. Robbie used to sing it to the girls at bedtime, and it brings back lovely memories. The words are so pretty too. I thought of my sweet and innocent baby girl Vivian, and how I do want her to bloom and grow. I want her to reach independence and no longer need me. However, it has been such a joy to nourish each of my children with mothers's milk. Nursing promoted such amazing bonding. There is nothing like the feel of a lovable child who grew in your belly nestled up with his or her warm head in the crook of your arm and a sleepy head against your chest. Tonight baby rubbed her silky blankey that I made for her against her nose, and she then played peek-a-boo with it. Her fat baby hand patted my chest, and I feel true love. Vivian is in all liklihood the last baby I'll ever have, and when she weans I think my heart will break a bit.

However, great joys await us. After she finished nursing she looked up, raised her arm, and used baby sign language for "light" to point out the dim glow coming from the ceiling. I loved it. Master Henry has not had a potty accident for over a week. He wears a diaper in his crib and on carpool rides, but his diaper stays dry. He's doing an awesome job. Yesterday I looked out the window to watch my darling husband throw snowballs at three of my children who were overstuffed with snow gear and taking cover behind a sled. Their giggles rang through the air, and I felt love in my heart. This morning the girls crawled into bed to snuggle up to warm mommy before the sun came up, and I treasure such times.

More tasks await as I prepare for the hectic nature of Monday mornings, so I must close. As another song that played earlier reminds me, I'll Count My Blessings Instead of Sheep. My blessings are many. Another one just befell me. Henry came down to say he wanted to kiss and hug me goodnight. I said, "I love you, big guy. You're such a good boy." He said, "I love you too. You're such a good mommy."

A Mouse by the Tail and Seeping Syrup Hell

I am in the worst mood. This may be more of a rant than a blog. For that I'm sorry, but I need to vent. During the course of feeding lunch to the three youngest children earlier today, I discovered that an entire bottle of corn syrup had spilled on the top shelf of my tiny (and very crammed) pantry. The junk spread to cover the entire depth of the shelf, and it seeped between the boards which make up each shelf for a grand total of mess on four levels and both walls. My entire pantry (I just typed panty by mistake...that would have been funny if left unfixed) is spread over the kitchen surfaces, and the boards are drying. SO IRRITATING!! I know some people have real problems, but come on! Cleaning that kind of fiasco while trying to feed hungry little kids who are ready for a nap is not a good mix. That is not how I wanted to spend over an hour of my day.

Henry has on a crazy mix right now. As I ran on the treadmill, Evelyn dressed him in her red and silver sequined cheerleading uniform. It only covers one shoulder. He has it on over his favorite soccer jersey of Olivia's, which he now exclusively calls "Vivia" for some strange reason. The jersey is over an OU football warmup, so he looks crazy. My friend with triplet boys arrived at our door to leave something for me, and she said, "Oh, Henry," and just sighed. Those sisters. He picked up a clean, yet discarded purple velvet gynastics leotard of Olivia's from yesterday (she threw a fit over a complaint that it makes her itch). It is in his crib with him for naptime, and I think he likes the way it feels like one side of his blankey. What a boy.

He made my heart sing with his request a few mornings ago for t-rex undies after pottying first thing in the morning. That entire effort has been going really quite well. He then took off his Spiderman slippers and requested CARS (the movie) shoes. He politely asked for his Super Henry Lightning satin cape, matching gloves, and mask. Finally, he wanted baby T-Rex (an adorable Gund animal from Robbie for Christmas) and his blue blankey. He snuggled with his sisters and me on the couch under big blankets, and we woke up slowly that winter morning. It was lovely. We had a few similar mornings lately, and they were treasures.

Yesterday I decided we had had enough stay at home in our PJs days with the long weekend and snow days last week. I planned to take the children on a fun outing by myself. That's kind of a big deal with all four of them in the winter. As we stepped out our back door, Henry said, "Mommy, look at this," He had picked up a frozen dead baby mouse by the tail. Olivia started screaming. I yelled, "NO, Henry!" and flung my arm into his arm as I held Vivian, which sent the little mouse sailing through the air. Our back porch is open to the air, and Robbie thinks there must be a mouse nest nearby, and the baby got out of it and froze. Poor little thing. We called Robbie on speaker phone from the van to share the story. After we hung up Henry said, "I did almost about kiss it." We girls roared with laughter. This made Vivian copy us, and we had one of those belly laugh family moments that we will not soon forget.

Vivian is totally set on messing with every single door in her reach. She still only army crawls, at warp speed, grant you. However, she bee lines for open doors and tries to get her baby fingers slapped in them. I'm convinced of this. My sweet baby woke up at 4 am crying, which is thankfully quite rare. I went to her after letting her fuss a bit, and she felt somewhat warm. I nursed her, and she slept until 7:20 am. She wasn't too happy this morning, and she slept past her usual wake up time for her nap. Her temperature was 103.2 when I checked it, and her eyes looked sick. Ibuprofen dropped it to the 99s in just over an hour, so I don't know what to think. She's down for her pm nap, and I have loads to do. The pediatrician's office called me back, and they think it sounds viral. I hope she perks up later today.

Yesterday was fun. The girls shopped at the American Girl store with some Christmas money from Great-Grandma Gloria, and they loved it. I cashed their checks for single dollar bills, and they had to count them and shell out a bunch to pay for the outfit. I hope that helps them understand the expense of such special toy items. Robbie says they won't get it until they have to work to earn a dollar. He's probably right, but at least I'm making an effort.

I let the children ride the carousel, and Henry chose the largest and highest up dragon animal of all. He had to ride without me standing next to him, because I was holding baby Vivian. The girls chose a tea cup. The ride operator told me I had to ride with the girls, so the poor baby got spun dizzy, and I prayed that Henry wouldn't fall off his dragon while my head was spinning and the carousel was turning. Sometimes I wonder how I get myself into such situations in the name of fun. Henry wouldn't play in the indoor gym area because he didn't want to take off his shoes. So strange. At home he doesn't want pants or shoes, so go figure. He did escape the enclosure once. I think I noticed it right away, but I was really worried. I found him up against the outside wall around the corner from the entrance to the play area. The baby crawled all around, and then Henry threw a fit upon leaving. I left carrying him on my back in the Ergo Carrier, and I pushed Vivian and Evelyn in the E3 stroller. Olivia walked. She was a huge help to me yesterday morning. She helped shower Ev and Henry while I got the baby ready, and she was very happy and maternal. She can be such a delightful little girl.

Robbie got totally slammed with call this weekend. It was absolutely brutal for him, and he lost a lot of sleep. I lost some too with those middle of the night phone calls that yank us out of sound sleep. The phone kept ringing from the answering service all weekend, and I heard Olivia say, "No, he's not home. He's helping some lady whose eye won't stop bleeding." It was true. He had to go to emergency surgery twice for that poor patient, and he was at the hospital multiple times for hours each time trying to get things under control for her. We felt like he was back in residency, and we were thankful when Monday morning rolled around and it was somebody else's turn to deal with taking call.

Well, work beckons. The pantry fairy isn't going to put my kitchen back together, so I guess I better get after it. My book club just chose Pride and Prejudice. I started it twice, maybe three times, yet I've never finished it. I plan to try again. My step-mom really enjoyed it, and a friend said the end makes it all worth it.

Christmas Eve

A doctor friend who works with Robbie emailed me yesterday about how he could only imagine that our children had reached fever pitch with excitment toward Christmas. Today as they ran around the house singing with glee, I thought of that comment. So true! Tonight, once we finally got everyone to bed, Henry's voice rang out with a loud, "Mommmmyyyy!" I went to him, and he wanted to potty....again. While he used the restroom, I explained the importance of getting into his bed and going to sleep so that maybe Santa will bring him a Lightning McQueen (from Cars) toy. He looked at me seriously and said, "I been naughty or nice? I want presents, Mom." I laughed. Once I put him back to bed, I said, "I love you, Henry. Jesus loves you...and so does Santa." "That's funny!" he replied.

Well, some red wine and some caramel popcorn helped ease the pain of our 7 pm mass. Granted, our two youngest go to bed at 7 pm. Robbie and I are educated adults, yet we decided to go ahead with our 7 pm plan. It was a disaster. We arrived 45 minutes early, and Robbie and Olivia entered to save us some seats. I kept the little ones in the van with the special treat of a Christmas DVD movie to watch. We only watch movies in our vehicle on highway trips, so this was a big deal. Henry got upset once it was time to exit the van. He wanted to take some Lightning McQueen holiday window clings into church with him, and he tried to throw himself on the wet ground while I held Vivian (in her red winter pea coat), the diaper bag, and keys. It wasn't pretty. Once inside he went limp again a time or two, and I couldn't find Robbie in the packed house. A friend saved me by showing me the location of my husband, and I just left upset Henry in the aisle so I could drop off the baby to Robbie. People were staring. During mass we sat much closer to the front that usual, and Henry noticed a Christmas vest on the woman behind us. "Hey, that's RUDOLPH!!" he announced. He started asking her questions about her outift, and then he said, "Mommy, can I have a Rudolph shirt too?" The baby was good for 3/4 of mass, then she'd had ENOUGH. She started crying, and even the kind old woman next to us who let Henry touch her red gift earrings and pet her fur coat couldn't cheer my baby. The big girls were good. Actually, Evelyn earned our highest honor, Gold Star Behavior. She was an angel. I think she was too tired to act up in mass.

However, once home she completely and absolutely freaked out with fear that we were not getting her to bed fast enough. She was convinced Santa was going to pass our house, and she was crying and almost screaming for somebody to please unzip her dress. "For the love of God, get this thing off of me!!" I think she would have added, had she had the phrase in her vocabulary. Now, we haven't heard a peep out of her since lights out, and that's no short of a miracle. The funniest part about her tantrum was that once I finally got her to open her special Christmas Eve package, the box was Robbie's Kashi Go Lean from Costco. She was furious. She actually threw it on the floor, and said, "I don't want that!!!!!!" I know it seems naughty, but it was hysterically funny. Robbie and I laughed hard, and we understood her fear of missing Santa and his magic. "Why would I want a box of dry old cereal, parents?! I need to GO TO BED RIGHT NOWWWW" her little mind flew. I got it. The others opened gifts and found snowflake PJs, all coordinating. Evelyn figured it out, and she dressed herself in the new clothes faster than the others.

I love Christmas. My parents made it so special for us. We hope to create the same excitement and wonder for our four. I kept reminding the kids about Jesus' birthday too. They are young, but I think they get it. My favorite mass of the year is Christmas Eve, and my favorite song is Joy to the World. When it plays, I think of my dad. He belts out that tune, and I just love it. It isn't Christmas without Joy to the World. This year Dad and I weren't together. I missed his singing. However, Vivian kept things exciting. She screamed during the entire song. I re-entered the church before that final song. I couldn't be without my family during it. I just couldn't. Baby girl cried real tears, and nothing helped. I was so distracted that I didn't cry my usual Christmas Eve tears from missing my dad. Maybe that was Vivian's gift to her mommy.

Mama's tired. Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night! God speed, Santa!!!!!!

"Do you think our Elf on the Shelf has a tiny little penis?"

The kids have been so funny lately. First, the baby moved to the dark side yesterday. She turned 10 months on the 8th, and yesterday she was in full "baby on the move" mode. She opened a kitchen cabinet and threw things on the floor. She opened the drawer under the oven and tried to get to pans and lids. She cleared the bottom bookshelf of books and ripped an entire page from one. She got a cookie sheet and banged a cup against it to make a huge clatter!

This weekend Robbie was on the phone with his dad. Robbie doesn't do too much phone talking at home, and we have opposite styles. I talk while I unload the dishwasher or fold laundry. Robbie rests while he chats. After a LONG time, I began to wish he'd get off the phone. I needed to talk to him before I left the house, and he seemed in no hurry to end the call anytime soon. Just as I decided to interrupt him, Olivia handed him a note. It said, "Get off the phone right now for goodnise sake you have been on the phone sinse 10:00 to 12:18 you promised me you would tackle me!!!!!!!!!!" It worked. He got off the phone. They wrestled. He's such a good guy.

I went out to finish our holiday shopping, and I returned to homemade chicken and dumplings. It was amazing! The smell filled our home, and the food warmed me to the core after fighting crowds in store, cold air between stores, and unkind drivers. Gosh, it was good!! The next morning he used the dumpling recipe to make a giant biscuit for breakfast. The kids devoured the food, and I was completely thankful for a cooking husband. He even made sausage gravy!

Last night when the kids asked for dessert, Robbie suggested I make some dark chocolate brownies. I tried to make them molten cupcakes, and they were not well formed after much time in the oven. Henry ate his, and Robbie said, "Henry is the messiest human alive." His face was smeared with chocolate. It was all over his hands, his shirt, the table, and his chair. I thought the same thing when I found so many crumbs under his chair from his lunch today. How does one create so many crumbs? I think it requires special skill.

Okay, I hear somebody crying upstairs, but I must continue...
Evelyn came into our bathroom recently after searching for Porton, our Elf on the Shelf. He goes to the North Pole each night and tells Santa how our children behave. This means he tells Santa how they tease each other and leave their PJs on the floor. Anyway, Evelyn said, "Mama, do you think our Elf on the Shelf has a tiny little penis?" Now, Porton is smaller than a Barbie, and I laughed out loud. Robbie was in the shower, and he laughed too. I said, "Yes, Ev, I'm sure he has a little penis. He's a little elf, and that's how boys go pee pee." She then asked if Santa has a penis.

I have another hair cutting story and one that totally explains Ev's personality, but Vivian calls! You'll have to wait.

Winter Magic

This morning began in a lovely way. Evelyn was the first one up, and I found her curled up on the couch quietly and happily looking at Olivia's book. Henry eagerly joined his sisters, and the three of them sat close to one another under a big blanket on the couch while watching a t.v. program called Little Bear. Little Bear is dear to me because I often turned it on during the dog tired days of my early pregnancies when I felt sick and needed to rest with my other children. Classical music plays throughout the show, and it always has a sweet theme.

Our neighbors the Scarboros joined us for mass, and the girls had excellent behavior. The sermon dealt with joy, and at one point Vivian let out a delightful giggle with her daddy. Others nearby turned and smiled, and I couldn't help but lean to Mary Jane and whisper, "Now that is joy." She agreed. Henry said all the way to church, "I don't like Santa. I don't want to see him!" We enjoyed Breakfast with St. Nick, and Vivian amazed us by being our first little baby to not cry while sitting on Santa's lap for a photo. She happily smiled and tried to reach his bells. She is the best little baby I have ever had, and today just reinforced the statement.

We ran an errand to the store after mass, and Henry kept kissing little Vivian. She had on a new red wool pea coat with a matching beret from Grandma Mary and Grandpa Mike, and she looked like a baby from years gone by. An Indian man who was offering samples of juice saw the four children, and he commented on how cute the girls looked in their red coats. "Such pretty little girls. You are very blessed." He almost brought tears to my eyes. I am blessed indeed.

Now I have a moment to blog while the three oldest children are outside playing in the new fallen snow. Magical!! The temperature today is frigid, so I don't expect my children to last long outdoors. Lucky for them, I have a pot of water heating on the stove for good old hot chocolate. I have been working on Christmas cards, football is on the t.v. for Robbie, and the Christmas tree lights are twinkling. Winter can be so much fun.